


pink and red in my lungs, they're choking me alive

by honeysmiles



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with no happy ending, Blood, Flowers, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, One Sided Attraction, Unrequited Love, ambiguous ending me thinks, but they dont have much dialogue, hyunin, innie centric, it has everything u can expect from hanahaki yknow, pure n unfiltered pain, skz ot8 is here though, vomitting, well not really ambiguous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27733606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeysmiles/pseuds/honeysmiles
Summary: jeongin knows he loves his hyung, sometimes maybe more than he needs to. but he promises, he swears that he doesn’t love him in /that/ way.but the roses that bloom in his lungs, the petals he cough, the blood he spills, the tears he cries when he vomits the blooms out of his lips, they taunt him. “you’re a liar. a damned fool. that’s what you are.” they’d say if they could speak, mock him endlessly as he brings out one after another without stop. “you love hwang hyunjin.”; or, hyunjin gives jeongin endless roses, just not the way he wants him to.; or, jeongin lies to himself. it’s not like he’s dying from the flowers in his lungs. he thinks they’re pretty, anyways. they’re pretty just like hyunjin.
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Yang Jeongin | I.N
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	pink and red in my lungs, they're choking me alive

**Author's Note:**

> i.... really just like angst :D
> 
> tbh i don't know how i finished this in like... less than a day. then again the last time i wrote hanahaki i also took less than a day
> 
> yeah if u cant tell i really love this trope :]
> 
> feedbacks n kudos n comments r always appreciated!!

jeongin does not know what to do when he wakes up at 5 in the morning, hands around his throat as he chokes.

he swears he hadn’t eaten anything that night, save for the few potato chips he had stolen from changbin. but he remembers chewing it fully so that only the mash that came out of it he swallowed. he doesn’t think he could choke on that, specially since he gulped down a handful of water before he slept, so why, why’s he choking?

turns out, when he vomits into the sink and lets the gnawing itch inside his throat go, his blurry eyes are greeted with a petal- no, he’s greeted with two. one of them is a pretty shade of light pink, the other one’s a deep red stained with blood.

jeongin recognizes those petals.

those petals are from roses.

//

the japanese call it hanahaki, jeongin figures out.

it’s the disease of flowers blooming in his chest. brought to life by the act of unrequited love.

but jeongin does not love anyone. romantically, that is. 

that’s what he thinks. but then, hyunjin approaches him as he’s watching a movie. kisses his cheek and hugs him throughout the whole time, talks to him while kissing his neck because he always loves to show his love for him in those ways. jeongin’s used to it by now

but at the same time, jeongin feels weird. why are there butterflies in his stomach? why does his heart want to leap out of his chest? why is it that when seungmin and jisung and changbin and everyone else did this to him, he doesn’t feel the same?

it’s only when the petals clog his throat that it clicks in his head.

ah.

he likes hyunjin.

//

red roses symbolize love. they represent romance, beauty, perfection. the darker red ones he read symbolize humility and unconscious beauty. the pink ones are said to represent gratitude, grace, admiration, joy.

perfection, beauty, admiration, love. they struck jeongin most.

hyunjin’s always been everything in his eyes. if perfection lived as a human, hyunjin would be its embodiment. hyunjin is beautiful inside and out and jeongin knows it. jeongin loves him, jeongin admires him.

he doesn’t realize it then, or maybe he refuses to realize it. maybe he tries to lie to himself. tries to tell himself he’s not in love, that yang jeongin isn’t hopelessly falling for someone who won’t catch him when he lands. he may not realize it then, but the reason is too obvious to just ignore.

hyunjin.

hyunjin is the reason a garden is blooming in his chest.

//

even when thorns start to dig in his skin, when they start to prick his lungs and he starts to cough stalks that drag their thorns across his windpipe, he still tries to deny it.

jeongin knows he loves his hyung, sometimes maybe more than he needs to. but he promises, he swears that he doesn’t love him in /that/ way.

but the roses that bloom in his lungs, the petals he cough, the blood he spills, the tears he cries when he vomits the blooms out of his lips, they taunt him. “you’re a liar. a damned fool. that’s what you are.” they’d say if they could speak, mock him endlessly as he brings out one after another without stop. “you love hwang hyunjin.”

and he knows this. he knows. he knows and yet he tries to lie.

he knows he loves hwang hyunjin.

he knows it better than anyone else.

//

jeongin thinks he has bad luck knowing that he’s cursed with giving life to roses as his flowers.

they’re pretty. jeongin really thinks they are. but roses are blessed with thorns, so when jeongin coughs them up, the thorns leave marks in his throat. it stings and sometimes he faints from them. they wrap their little branches around his lungs and sometimes he feels them sinking into his skin. 

but they’re beautiful. what they mean is too beautiful to pass by. jeongin’s lungs give birth to the most lovely flower he knows. they may be painful – well, they /are/ painful, actually – but beauty always hurts, anyways.

after all, he sees hyunjin smile. he sees hyunjin being happy and sees hyunjin looking at him like he’s the only guy in his world. and when he does, the roses will pile up in his windpipe. their roots will ground themselves in his lungs. their thorns will leave behind their footprints in his chest, but jeongin will not care.

jeongin thinks all those roses are worth loving hyunjin hopelessly.

//

it happens when they eat at the cafeteria together.

“maknae, are you okay?”

chan asks him with his eyes narrowing down on the hand covering his mouth. he’s coughing, there’s a rose stuck in his throat and he wants to take it out so badly but hyunjin is sitting right across him, and he can’t find the energy in himself to stand up and get to the bathroom.

“i’m fine, hyungie.”

jeongin knows that chan knows he’s not fine. jeongin knows that chan often visits his room. jeongin knows that chan knows about the roses he hides under his bed. jeongin knows that chan wants to speak, wants to talk some sense into him, want to force those flowers out of him so he doesn’t have to suffer so he can breathe just like he used to–

–but chan does not say anything.

“i trust you, maknae.”

it’s a wordless confirmation. “i trust that you won’t be so careless with your love that you double down and just die out of suffocation, maknae.” jeongin thinks he’d say if only they weren’t in the cafeteria. “i trust that you won’t die just because of those feelings you harbor. i trust that you’ll be okay. i trust that you’ll come to me when you feel ready.”

but then there’s hyunjin. hyunjin who looks at him worried. hyunjin who stares at him from across the table, a smile ever stuck on his pretty lips. hyunjin who gives him some of his cooked meat because worrying about jeongin is important to hyunjin just like air’s important for him to be able to breathe. 

the roses prick into the walls of his lungs. jeongin feels them implanting their roots inside his windpipe. he feels like choking. he thinks he’s going to choke. he wishes he would so he’d have a reason to escape all this.

but he doesn’t. 

he doesn’t, and with every cough he releases, he can sense chan staring him down with even more concern than before.

//

seungmin finds out next.

“spit it up, jeongin.” he says when he corners him alone in his room, all bloody and messy after another bunch of roses decide to climb up his throat when hyunjin crosses against his mind. “what’s happening?”

jeongin knows seungmin cares. he knows seungmin would never do anything to hurt him, nor would he ever want to see him suffer like this. he knows it quite well, but he just can’t seem to say anything when the roses keep on crowding around the inside of his mouth.

seungmin figures it out anyways when jeongin’s huddled up in his arms, spewing the roses inside tissue paper seungmin had to sneak out from the kitchen. “it’s hyunjin, isn’t it?” his voice is low, like he doesn’t want the roses to bloom any longer.

and it hurts to even nod, hurts when he hears his name coming out of someone else’s. kills him inside when he knows he’ll have to face hyunjin again tomorrow. seungmin doesn’t force him to speak any longer, doesn’t even leave him when jisung enters and asks if he’s okay. he just stays there and hugs him to give him some comfort.

“you can’t avoid this forever, maknae.” he hears him saying when jisung is asleep and it’s three in the morning. “you know you can’t.”

jeongin knows that.

but the feeling of not loving hyunjin, to not feel his heart rise up to his chest when he sees him and to not wish for him to be in hyunjin’s arms– he doesn’t want to to know how that feels.

//

“you need to take the surgery.”

jeongin doesn’t know how jisung knew about it– but then again, he did cough awfully louder last night, maybe it’s to be expected.

“innie, baby.” jisung cups his cheek in his hand, worry sinking deep into his usually happy features. “you know i care about you– we all do. please, i don’t want to see you suffer.”

jeongin shakes his head. he can barely speak now without having an influx on roses banging against his chest. he’s learned to supress it so that whenever he sings, he doesn’t suddenly choke on them. they do still find themselves in his lungs, and thinking about /him/ only makes it worse.

“you can’t-“ jisung cries into his chest. “don’t do this, please.”

jeongin sighs. “i’m sorry, hyung.”

jisung does not respond. maybe it’s for the best that he didn’t.

//

one by one, they all begin to know.

felix knows from chan. 

jeongin knows this because one day he overhears felix crying into chan’s chest and screaming at him to do something, to beg jeongin to take the surgery, do absolutely anything to save him. 

jeongin knows that chan knows he’s eavesdropping, sees it in the way he calls for him when he tries to slip away. felix tries to persuade him then. but even still, he doesn’t take it. 

one by one, they all begin to know.

minho knows from jisung. 

minho doesn’t cry. minho doesn’t cry because when minho knows about it, jisung is crying into his chest. minho doesn’t cry because he knows jeongin is pretending to sleep in the very same room. minho doesn’t cry. jeongin knows minho wants to, but he doesn’t. 

when jisung is fast asleep, minho steps closer to his bed. he tells him that he’s always here if he wants to talk. jeongin is grateful that minho doesn’t try to push him to do anything, he needs rest after silently coughing up his flowers, after all.

one by one, they all begin to know.

changbin knows from seungmin.

jeongin knows this because one day, changbin enters his room and hugs him without warning. says that everything will be okay and that they’re all by his side. jeongin knows it’s seungmin who tells him because changbin leaves the door open, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees seungmin close the door.

one by one, they all begin to know.

they all know. they all know except hyunjin.

jeongin likes to keep it that way.

//

jeongin wonders.

would hyunjin love the garden he’s come to raise inside his chest? jeongin thinks they’re all beautiful, just like him. jeongin’s raised each and every one of them like his own. he doesn’t want hyunjin to blame himself. doesn’t want to see him cry. jeongin would do everything just to see him smile.

and it’s that word, everything. he’d do absolutely everything for hyunjin.

jeongin thinks he’s gone to the brink of insanity. he loves someone who doesn’t love him back. he tends to the flowers in his chest and doesn’t hate them even though they’re the very reason he’s dying.

jeongin knows he should hate hyunjin. he knows he should hate him because he’s the reason he’s choking.

but jeongin won’t let him know. he won’t ever let hyunjin find out he’s planting flowers deep inside his lungs. they’re so incredibly pretty, and jeongin loves each and every one of them that he kisses them when they come out, but he won’t let hyunjin know.

the garden inside his lungs will bloom out of control one day. a frenzy of flowers will sprout from his chest and roses will spill like air out of his lips. and maybe, just maybe, only then he’d let hyunjin see what he’s planted inside the walls of his chest.

//

jeongin likes to dream of hyunjin.

he likes to dream of hyunjin smiling, dreams of hyunjin holding him closely and never letting him go. hyunjin would hold his hand in his. he’d smile at him, he’d kiss him and he’d tell jeongin that he loves him.

jeongin breathes in his dreams. he doesn’t choke. he never throws up his pretty little roses and he never cries while he heaves for his breaths. his dreams are far from reality, and he often finds blood spilling on his mattress when he wakes up with roses just a few spaces away from them, but they’re fulfilling, so he’s always happy when he sleeps.

so maybe he’s selfish, maybe he shouldn’t have slept in hyunjin’s arms when he tells him to as they watch a movie in their living room. maybe if his dreams weren’t so pretty and helped him forget about the nightmares of reality, he wouldn’t succumb to them when he knows he shouldn’t, specially when he’s in hyunjin’s arms.

but jeongin has always been selfish. he’s been selfish since he wanted to keep these feelings of his. he’s been selfish since he wanted hyunjin’s love. he’s been selfish since he started dreaming of dreams that could never happen in real life.

so he does.

it’s the last time he ever dreams.

//

like all living beings, things must come to an end.

jeongin doesn’t know it, he now sleeps in the realm of the soulless stuck inside the ethereal casing of his dreams.

his garden wilts in the arms of his sun, who shone on his flowers too much that they died and withered away.


End file.
